Fatal Attraction
by ScarletKitten
Summary: What if Gordon had not been there to save the Batman from the Joker after the infamous car chasing scene in the middle of TDK? The joker has all along been intrigued and obsessed with the batman and now he discovers his identity. Slash. J/B


_What if Gordon had not been there to save the Batman from the Joker ? The Batman is injured and unconscious after the infamous car chasing scene in the middle of TDK and this time, there's no Gordon to arrest the Joker as he kidnaps the masked man who has intrigued him so much.. Story should be considered AU since the plot after that would not be following that of TDK… Constructive comments are welcomed, but flaming isn't. _

Warning: This story is intended to be slash. M/M. Don't read if you're easily offended.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Batman franchise. This is just a story I came up with when I was bored during language studies, after I watched The Dark Knight months back.

He had him right where he wanted.

Rubbing his hands in glee, the Joker had his eye on the prize.

So here he was, the mighty Batman, unconscious and unmasked, right in the Joker's lair, with no one to save him. This place wasn't exactly his lair, but it was abandoned, and therefore fulfilled his requirements. Plus, the place had once been a hospital, thereby allowing the Joker access to some of the medical supplies for his injured bat. While he wasn't exactly sure if they were still useable, the Joker had always been a staunch believer in the saying that what doesn't kill you, can only make one stronger, or in his case, crazier.

It had taken the Joker a lot of restrain to not kill the Batman, but he had decided for the greater good to keep him alive, simply because he felt like it.

And because of that decision, the Joker had ensured that the bat be injected with some leftover sedative, or at least he thought it was, that he had found in a broken kit, just to be sure of no mess-ups should his cronies blunder on the stitches over his victim's wound – a bloody deep gash across his abdomen, before they dressed him in the usual hospital garb that they had managed to find.

And then he had killed those goons.

Firstly, because the Joker was a selfish clown. Sharing of such vital information was definitely out of the question. Only he and he only, shall know of such an important secret.

And secondly, because the Joker had thought it to be a spot of fun for his henchmen to slip on the bunch of nurses outfit that he had found just so he could get the hospital-ly atmosphere. Of course the men had objected and upon trying on a fallen stocking and skirt in a corner, the men had erupted in peals of laughter at the sight of their boss in such a ridiculous predicament. Of course, such behaviour only elicited one response, and so now they were dead.

'Good help is so hard to find these days..' the Joker muttered as he threw the gun down among the bodies.

Pausing for a while to collect his thoughts, the Joker ultimately decided against putting on the outfit. While he knew it would raise an eye brown and perhaps crap the wind out of Batman when he awakens, he just didn't feel like doing so now. The mood was dead, like those men. Perhaps another day.

' Bruce Bruce … Bruce Wayne. Wayne.. Hmm.. So Bruce Wayne is Batman ..' Smacking his lips, the Joker wondered if it was all a hoax. Like the time when Harvey Dent had lied about being Batman He was no fool, and he had done enough homework to deduce and understand that Bruce Wayne was anything but a vigilante. While Batman was righteous and incorruptible, Bruce Wayne seemed to be the complete opposite. Spoilt, proud, spineless, philandering and the list just goes on. Bringing his hands to cup Bruce's chin, the Joker leaned in for a closer look.

Yes, the strong jaw line and pouting lips, even in his unconscious state reminded the Joker distinctively of the few times whereby he had had the luxury and pleasure of meeting the Batman, thereby confirming once and for all that this Bruce was indeed the impressive vigilante that Gotham had grown so accustomed to save their pathetic streets from spineless thugs and ruffians. Now he had his suspicions back when Dent had 'confessed'. Something just didn't sit right with him being Batman, but his job as the district attorney plus the localized usage of dubbing him the white knight did make the entire fiasco plausible.

But not this time.

Bruce's features were sharp, and while he resembled something of the aristocracy, the Joker could sense the darkness within him. Plus, the Wayne boy was really pretty. He had always imagined the Batman to be good-looking, somewhat like an accomplished bachelor with too much time on his hands, but Bruce Wayne was definitely the cherry on his cake. In fact, this surprise was really pleasant, if not, completely gratifying.

The Joker had imagined countless times as to how he would unmask the Batman. On days when he had been bored with counting out the loot he had stolen from the mob, he had fancied painting a smile upon those forever frowning lips of the Batman with his favourite switchblade before carving out his throat, just so he could rid him of the annoying raspy growl. And if he could, he would rip that cowl to shreds before devouring those lips to make them his.

Ever since the day the Joker had set foot within the soil of Gotham, he had enjoyed every single moment of it and taken great pleasure in teaching the citizens of Gotham the true meaning of embracing chaos. Back in his heisting days from yonder, he had been bored with the same monotonous fights with the local police forces, and equally disappointed with how easily breakable and predictable these men were; these heroes. Yes, heroes who thought they could come forth to try and salvage what he had destroyed, only, they weren't much of a hero after the Joker had striped them bare of their senses and morality with his little mind games. To say that they were driven to the brink of madness was a sheer understatement; but then again, the Joker thrived upon fear, and he took great pleasure in doing what he does best – To peel off one's mask by upsetting the balance.

But it was different here in Gotham. He had heard of the stories, a freak of Gotham, donning a bat suit, taking the law into his own hands and striking fear within the very hearts of villains everywhere. News like these were music to the Joker's amused and deranged mind. It was like the common saying - Opposites attract, freaks of a nature, frolic together, like calls to like. Whatever it was, the Joker had felt the calling, besieging him to seek out this, Batman, to find him, to embrace his other half, and perhaps, to kill him, just for the fun of curbing his enthusiasm. His hyperactive state of mind was never able to fully comprehend a situation. No. Decisions he made were never calculated. The Joker relied purely on his gut and instinct, and they had yet to let him down.

To simply put, the attraction he felt for the Batman was something more than anything he had felt in years. In all his life, he had found humanity to be fragile. While he had been labeled as a freak, he had found it surprisingly easy as to how quickly he was able to destroy the shards of sanity simply by introducing a little bit of chaos, and he had his fun watching the world burn as he continued his plunder and savage conquest from city to city. But up till now, he had never felt this much affinity with such a worthy adversary. The feeling was entirely new to him and it twisted and tickled his very insides to know that he could feel in such a way. And it felt great. Such anticipation was something he could get used to.

Bringing himself closer to Bruce's flawless face, the Joker fingered the blade in his other hand, controlling the urge to glide his beautiful friend along his pale skin. The Joker had a penchant for destroying anything beautiful. He hated anything that looked flawless and neat. Neatness was a sign of sick control. He wanted nothing more than to rip the orderliness into absolute disarray. That was the main reason why he had smeared tons and tons of cheap make up all over his abused skin and he had never bothered to keep his hair clean. Why bother when everything in this world was nothing but a giant façade.

Then perhaps Bruce Wayne was just a façade for Batman. Or was it the other way around.

This was the very question that disconcerted the Joker.

Revelling lower, the Joker took in his scent, before he dropped his tongue, giving a gentle lick as his tongue caressed the very contours of the Batman's neck. The sweetness he tasted was merely the aftertaste of victory. Yes he would have his way with Bruce, but not now. Not when he was unconscious and vulnerable.

But then again, the tease was just too overbearing to ignore. Surely he could try, a peek perhaps, beneath those useless garments, just to get a rough 'feel' of what he was owning. Giggling inwardly at his own pun, the Joker leaned closer.

'Let's check out the goody basket!'

Humming along to no one in particular, the Joker could hardly hold his excitement as his trusty blade glided skillfully against the coarse fabric. He had not felt this much anticipation since, well, since never. The Batman had intrigued him too much, beyond what his receptive mind could comprehend. And while he understood many of the functions and dysfunctions that make the gears of the world turn, this was one puzzle that he wanted to covet for all eternity. Kind of like keeping a rare and exotic pet, just that given the circumstances, it was more like a de-fanged snake.

And it was then that the pretty face beneath the Joker flinched.

Pushing him firmly back by the hands, the Joker hoisted himself atop the prostrated figure before the latter could react. He was mildly surprised by how quickly the Wayne boy had awakened. Either the dose of anesthesia used had lost its mojo, or it was simply because he was the Batman. Shouldn't anything be possible then?

Straddling himself comfortably atop, Bruce gave a loud hiss as the violent maneuver by the Joker only succeeded in antagonizing the recently bandaged wound along his abdomen. Bringing one hand to hold both his hostage's wrist in a lock, the Joker gave the knife in his other hand a violet jerk, finishing off the last of the fabric. Bruce struggled to free his hands from the vice-like grip, but it seemed that the Joker had already exploited his weakened state, leaving him with just enough strength to jerk aggressively( at least he hoped it had been) to his left in order to throw off his captor. No such luck.

'A little feisty today aren't we..'

'Joker..'

'Bruce… now that we are acquainted, let's carry on the inspection.'

Upon hearing his name, it had taken at least a few second for the realization on his exposed identity to sink in. Bruce wanted to deny it, to hide it, anything to prevent the murderous clown from knowing something so personal. But then his mind had been quick in reminding him of his current predicament. While he could mop and sulk over the identity crisis, there was currently a more pressing issue to attend to which involved his very life. The situation seemed rather grave. His body felt weak and drained, something he had never felt before and wondered if he had been given something. In fact, whatever it was, was now giving him a terrible migraine.

'You know, I used to have a pet viper,' the Joker continued, as if nothing had really happened.

' Really beautiful thing she was, and rare too. She was ah.. black, and poisonous, deadly. The perfect pet any child could get.' The jokers long fingers were now resting upon the bandages.

' Now..'

' What the hell do you want with me..' Bruce knew the Joker's tricks. As Batman, he remembered the encounters he had had with the murderous clown, and those encounters had taught him that when the Joker starts his story-telling sessions, it was just a long walk around the bush before he came to the main point.

Backhanding Bruce with a sharp flinch of his wrist, the Joker leaned closer as he placed a finger upon those pretty pink lips. ' As I…. was saying, my mother hated that snake, she had always hated snakes, and so even though I didn't want to, I removed my little pet's venomous fangs, all for her..'

'You think she would have been happy, but no.. when I came home one day, I saw its dead body, all curled up, mangled and all, in the trash just outside..'

'And your point is?' Bruce gave up. He could hardly understand what the Joker was trying to tell him. The wound over his stomach seemed to be flaring up, like that of a raging infection and mentally, Bruce was swearing loudly within the depths of his mind, that the Joker would just stop rocking back and forth over his wounded spot. Every movement the clown made seemed to aggravate the injury, making it hard for him to think clearly about his current situation. In fact, he was spending most of his energy on hiding his pain, and right now, appearing stoic was harder then scaling the walls of Machu Picchu.

' Point? I don't have one um.. Brucey ..' Rolling his tongue in lieu with the R, the Joker giggled. He could see that the Wayne boy was annoyed with such a nickname. Well he shall have to get used to it he thought. Rocking harder, the Joker could see that Bruce was trying his best to conceal the pain. Relishing such an expression, the Joker giggled yet again and watched as those lovely hazel brown eyes matched his. Moving both his hands over Bruce's bare chest, the Joker was enjoying the touch of the firm and supple skin and while Batman could only writhe in vile objection to his touch, the joker lowered himself once more as he glided his tongue over his sternum, stopping once to loop his playful tongue over the tip of Bruce's nipple before tracing the collarbone all the way up to his jaws and finally his lips.

Shivering unexpectedly, Bruce was powerless to stop the Joker's advances and he abhorred himself for being so weak. Turning away to avoid the Joker's tongue on his lips, Bruce could feel himself turning red in embarrassment at being in such a close proximity with the clown in such an intimate position no less. Seizing the chance, the Joker took a nip at Bruce's ear, teething the helix before he nibbled his way down.

Sucking on the lobe, the Joker continued ' You are my viper, Bats. I shall have you, poison and all..'

Bruce's heart turned cold when he heard that. The Joker's confession sounded like an eerie case of fatal attraction. It needed to stop. 'So just kill me and get it over and done with.'

'Oh Brucey, I don't want to kill you. You complete me, you intrigue me too much.' While the Joker couldn't understand the obsession, he had decided to simply follow on his trusty instinct. It had never failed him.

Bruce wasn't completely sure what the Joker wanted with him, but he was beginning to get the hint. His sore and battered body was longing for rest but he denied himself that exit, knowing very well that he would be placing himself at the very mercy of the deranged killer. Plus it didn't help that he was hardly able to move a finger. With the Joker's weight unevenly distributed over the lower half of his body, the continuous rocking was now alerting him to something else. It didn't take a genius to guess that the Joker was getting a hard on with all his 'little actions'.

Repulsed by the very thought, Bruce mustered all the strength he could and bucked. With the Joker momentarily distracted, his little tactic did the trick as both men toppled over the bedside.

Victorious, Bruce tried to stand, only to find his muscle exceedingly uncooperative. Lying on his back, his breath was short as his vision slowly began to dim. It had apparently taken all of his strength in that little maneuver and now he was paying the price for it. Cursing his weakened state, he could only lie where he was now and watch as the Joker laughed at his feeble attempt to escape. Having picked himself off the ground, the Joker was now on top of him.

' Tell me Brucey, have you ever wanted something, desired something so much? Hm? Because right now, I could have it my way with you.'

There was a hint of hostility within the Joker's ragged voice. Clearly his actions had angered him, but for Bruce only the darkness could answer him now as he slipped off the edge of consciousness.

'Hey, I'm talking to you!' Giving the pretty face a few quick slaps, it was clear to the Joker that the Batman had retreated into lala land, the fun was over. Frustrated and pissed could hardly describe his feelings right now. He wanted the Wayne boy. And he wanted him now.

But for now, he would have to wait.

A/n: Reviews would be much appreciated. Apologies for any spelling/grammatical errors as I am terrible with editing.


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